Pie Versus Pi
by ArtisticAbandon
Summary: Just as it says. Short little piece between Bruce and a young Dick on the merits of maths homework versus Alfred's cooking, in honor of today's date, 3.14...


In honor of today's date, 3.14 (as American's put it), and a challange to write a fic/drabble about it.

Bunnies. Next time: Bite _them_. Someone. Anyone. Not me.

I get the feeling this would've sound better as an actual conversation instead of on paper. Oh well. I never claimed to breed the bunnies. I just write for the darn things. Its unbetaed, so accuracy of spelling is optional. And its definitely _not_ polished. Its just a quick little write to soothe an itch. So sue me. Gently.

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**Pie versus Pi**

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"But Bruuuce..."

"No." Firm. He had to be firm. Those big, bruised blue eyes weren't going to sway him. They. Were. Not.

"But--" Great. Now the lip was wobbling too. How come he couldn't stand up to a fourteen-year-old?

He breathed a big breath and regathered himself and his flagging will. "No. Not until you learn it, Dick. You never know where these things will come in handy."

"Oh, yeah, right. Like I'll ever need to know pi _that_ much." Dick threw his pencil down petulantly.

Bruce gamely fought back the urge to rub his temples. Alfred was going to pay for this, he swore. He knew nothing about how to help kids and their homework. Alfred was better at this. He tried again. "Pi is a very important part of being a vigilante, Dick."

"The only pie I want is sitting right _there_, and it has nothing to do with the pi in my book. It belongs in my stomach, not my maths book."

"Pi, yes. Pie, no. Don't confuse the two."

The youth snorted. "Sure, like _that_ made total sense."

Okaaay...he was so _not_ getting a headache. He. Was. Not. "Pi. Ratio of circumference to diameter, remember?" he appealed again, trying to bring the boy's mind back to mathematics, and fractions, and everything else they'd been talking about, and not the piece of pie sitting on the table, left there by Alfred for after this session. A definition of torture if ever he'd heard one. Like the white elephant in the middle of the room. He was doing quite well not thinking about it until Dick had pointed it out. Damn, now he was hungry too.

"So? A slice of pie is not a _zillion_ digits of pi, Bruce."

"I'm not asking you to remember that many digits, kid."

"Yeah, right," the youth snorted.

"Just fifty."

"It looks like a zillion." Oh, no. He was petulant again. Which meant he was starting up with The Eye Thing again, damn him. Didn't he know how hard that was to fight against?

Probably. And that was the whole point, wasn't it?

"That's not even a real number," Bruce retorted-half-protested. While forcing himself not to look his own kid in the eyes. Because if he did, he knew he'd cave in. He was _supposed_ to be the one in charge of this lesson, even though he had the feeling he'd lost that some time ago.

"Just like pi's not a real number either." Smug. And grinning too, that smirking grin that said he was in for one of his smart-alek comments.

And, for the life of him, he didn't bother trying to stop him. "Oh?"

"You know. Pi's an irrational number. Its as irrational as the Scarecrow, or the Joker on steroids." He paused a moment in thought. "Or Babs, at times."

Ah, so the kid was at the stage where the other sex were suddenly irrational? With Barbara in the mix? Ohh boy. He was _definitely_ handing over that discussion to Alfred. "Oh," was all he could say, thinking frantically of how he was going to handle convincing Alfred to do it.

Dick quickly regained himself, and that smirking grin he'd quickly come to recognize as a sign of imminent mischief. "So, since I don't wanna be irrational, I think I'm gonna settle for the real version of pie, Bruce." Quick tanned hands reached out and snapped up his plate and fork, and he happily started digging in.

The chewing sounds and moans of delight – would the boy _ever_ learn to eat quietly? – snapped Bruce out of his thoughts, and he could only stare at amazement at the sight of his fourteen year old son virtually inhaling a slice of pie. Where, he wondered, had he lost control of the conversation? In the end, he shrugged, and picked up his own piece and joined his son in devouring the delectable delight.

Hmph. Pie versus pi. There was really no contest.

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All done. :-)


End file.
